


One Wish, Two wish, Three

by OnyourRadar



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Crack, Djinni & Genies, Fluff, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyourRadar/pseuds/OnyourRadar
Summary: Eliott inherits a fortune and vault of miscellaneous things. He finds a lamp.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	One Wish, Two wish, Three

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something that wouldn't leave me alone. Will probably be two chapters

"Alright, I'm heading out Eli. You good?" 

Eliott turns his head and looks at Idriss from his spot laid out on the floor. His chest heaves from exhaustion, breathing echoing in the vault that the both of them occupy. 

He nods from his position. 

“I’ll probably go through a couple more boxes before heading home myself." He sees Idriss nod before he throws a salute and heads out the door. 

"I'll be back tomorrow with Sofiane. Maybe with the three of us we can get this shit cleared in, oh I don't know, three years?" 

Eliott barks a laugh and lets that carry out with Idriss. He doesn't bother responding and instead breathes in the dusty air that surrounds him. 

He huffs, smacks his lips together and thinks he could really go for a blue razz slushie right about now, but it's close to midnight and he was nowhere near a convenience store. He swallows down the disappointment and pushes himself back up in a sitting position, tired eyes taking in the absolute gargantuan task in front of him. 

Crates upon crates filling up every inch of the space in front of him. The absolute drab lighting in this vault fit for kings has him feeling weary. He really was going to be at this for years if he didn’t get some more help. 

This had not been what he was expecting when he received the last will and testament of some distant great aunts and uncles who died in recent years. Their lawyer finally tracked him down as the last living relative and therefore heir to the fortune.

He was to receive all of the assets. Once he'd gotten over the initial shock--what with him avoiding the locked vaults like the plague and ignoring it's existence for the last two years-- he asked Idrissif he'd be willing to help him go through everyone. Sort of like taking the first steps and Idriss simply patted him roughly on the back and said,

"Been waiting for you to grow some balls and get this shit cleaned up." The smile he shoots Eliott is reassuring. Though, now neck deep in this business and Eliott almost felt like it was too much trouble as he rifled through all the crates that haven’t been open in what looked like centuries, just to figure out what exactly he inherited. 

So far the boxes, newer looking ones, carried the usual: hideous paintings that most probably carried hefty price tags, fine china that would never see the light of day as it sat in hutches, photo albums that marked the turn of the century. 

It was cool to say the least. Eliott moved through the maze of crates, moved deeper into the room where the light was faint and the air was heavy. He found that the deeper he went the older the crates appeared. He stops at an old chest that sat polished and out of place. He’s reminded of the key given to him during the reading of the will. 

_“Keep it safe, you’ll know when to use it.”_

Eliott has been carrying around the small metal key in his back pocket like a flimsy grocery receipt ever since this whole thing began. He pats the back of his pants and huffs a sound of relief when he feels the outline of it. 

Not the best place to keep it, but it works for now. He eyes the key, a small and warped little thing like none he has ever seen before, then looks at the keyhole and finds it to be a perfect fit. With a shrug Eliott slots it in, twists until he hears a click and finds himself surprised that the key itself did not bend to the pressure he had to exert. 

He sits on his heel, palms pressed hot and secure against the lid and does his best to move the heavy lid up. It creaks and wails like it is dying and the sound makes Eliott wince. 

Eliott bites his lips as he stares down at the vibrant silks strewn inside. When he lifts what looks like a veil, a scarf, it slips through his fingers like water. He finds them to be beautiful, breathtakingly gorgeous and wonders where they've traveled from. 

He digs deeper until his hands touch on something hard and oddly shaped and wrapped up so securely. Eliott peels back the silky reds and yellows and greens till he is face to face with a golden teapot. Oval in shape with a long sprout and a smooth handle. 

He cocks a brow and sees his reflection on the shiny surface.

"Hm, is this solid gold?" He wonders out loud. Eliott runs his fingers delicately over the surface. Once, twice. A third time. 

Still in awe of the weight and beauty of it, Eliott places it gently down atop the silks. He runs through all the possible places this teapot could sit in his small apartment. Because there was no way he was going to put that back into storage. 

Eliott steps back, about to close the lid when a bright glow stops him. His eyes grow wide and he scrambles back as the lamp he’d just placed down starts to tremble seemingly in the grasp of a ghost. He would later deny the undignified squawk that leaves his lips. His backs up and finds himself trapped between two towering stacks of crates and curses his ability to so effectively corner himself. 

The flash of light becomes blinding to a point that Eliott scrunches up his face and uses his forearm as a poor shield. He tries his best to not think of the fact that if he were to die a mysterious death, his body would not be found for probably another couple of weeks if he was lucky. 

His breathing comes out labored, tickling his bare forearms and moisture gathers at the top of his lips because everything suddenly becomes unbearably warm.

“Oh? What do I have here?”

And like that, the light is gone and Eliott is on the verge of vomiting up his stomach as he feels panic settle his bones as an unfamiliar voice that licks at his ears. It echoes, bouncing off the walls and he swears it wraps around him. Eliott panics and flinches back, wincing when he jams his shoulder from the move. 

“What is this, don’t tell me you’re scared?” The voice sounds impossibly close. Melodic and carrying a laugh that sends tingles down Eliott’s spine. 

When Eliott lowers his arms to peek at the intruder he is surprised to see nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes dart back and forth wearily in the dim lighting. Eliott tries to clear his head, shakes it and runs trembling fingers through his own hair.

“I’ve been at this for too long” he mumbles and his hands move to rub at his tired eyes. When he looks up again Eliott falls back in shock at the sight of curious blue eyes staring back at him. 

“Jesus fuck!” He shouts as he scrambles, feet pushing to move as far away from the stranger as much as possible, hands reaching to find purchase on anything — maybe a stick, or bat would be nice, Eliott thinks as his breathing picks up. His eyes grow impossibly wide trying to take in as much light as possible to dispel whatever trick his mind was playing on him. 

The man was dressed in a pair of loose fitting pants that hugged at the hips and cuffed at his ankles and nothing else. The olive skin of his bare chest, arms, and feet seemingly glistening in the stifling air of the vault. The golden choker that wraps around his neck glints and catches Eliott’s attention. 

The man takes a step closer and Eliott lets out a strangled squeak much to the other’s amusement. 

“Looking for me?” he asks, voice laced with a smooth timber, he bends at the waist and leans impossibly close until the only thing Eliott can see is a perfectly sculpted face; thick brows, a pointed chin and full lips a pale pink. Warm olive skin and shining cornflower blue eyes that twinkled beneath long lashes. 

Eliott finds himself blushing under the scrutiny. Those lips lift at the corner in a revealing smirk. 

"You sure are a handsome one. How lucky for me. It seems the gods are on my side." 

Eliott swallows thickly at the sound of that voice. 

"W-who are you?" He sort of wants to ask what are you? But Eliott isn't rude. He has manners. 

"This is precious, you've no clue who or what I am?" And something in the way this stranger states this has Eliott going cold. Like he _insulted_ him and he’s going to pay for not knowing. 

"Who is it that I am speaking too?"

"Eliott." he calls out softly, watching as the other man rolls his name on his tongue like he is testing it out. For what, Eliott isn't sure. 

"The name's Lucas." Lucas stalks towards him, the floor glowing with every step of those bare feet. "I'm what your kind call, a genie." 

Eliott eyes him, cautiously, because seriously what the fuck. But the way Lucas moves, everything so calculated, Eliott can't help but stare. He takes in the gold cuffs that encircle the genie's wrists, sees the same peeking out on thin ankles. He looks bound and heartbreakingly beautiful. 

"I can grant you your deepest desires. Anything that you could possibly want." 

Eliott watches as the genie licks his plump lips, making them spit shined. 

"Money." The accented voice whispers in his ears and when he pulls back Eliott holds that hooded gaze. And for a split second the heat in the air evaporates and Eliott is left feeling chilled to the bone. With a flick of gold-bangled wrists, the crates stacked ceiling high melt into piles of gold and jewels. 

Eliott's sight saturated with the bright gleams of rubies and emeralds clattering to the floor by his feet. His eyes grow wide. Unbelieving. 

"Power... _fame_ " Lucas purrs and his world shifts again. Swirls in a myriad of colors before Eliott is assaulted by the feeling of hands trying desperately to grasp at him from all angles. His name shouted out with glee, faceless bodies trying hard to call for his attention. 

Eliott feels trapped and a rushing fear that he’d be completely overwhelmed by these faceless entities. It wasn’t quite the way he imagined his life ending, and he isn’t quite sure he can accept it. He fights and pushes at the bodies trying to keep his head above the bodies piling up. 

He quickly loses sight of the stranger and that dangerous smile. And just as he feels himself giving in, closing his eyes as the air grows thin— everything goes back to normal. He looks around and he sees that crates still tower all around him. The lighting is dim and Eliott looks like an idiot standing there with his arms raised and flailing about, surrounded by nothing. 

He eyes that stranger who is smirking at him. Eyes dancing and laughing at him. Eliott clears his throat and attempts to calm his racing heart as he straightens himself out. Lowers his arms and ruffles his own hair. 

"So, uh, a genie. With like...magic." 

Lucas cocks a brow as Eliott tries to formulate more than a half assed sentence strung together filled with more stammering than actual words. He is glad that Idriss is not here to watch his epic failure at being a suave human. 

"Mm. Yes. Magic. I'm sorry, are you going somewhere with this?" 

Lucas looks up at him, amused smile a taunting stretch of skin. His head is tilted to the side, exposing his rather slender looking neck. 

"What? No...I mean yes." Eliott breathes in deeply and gives himself a second to clear his head. Because who could blame him. One minute he's cleaning out a vault devoid of any other life form and the next he's in the presence of a very gorgeous self proclaimed genie and witnessing things he would only ever see in his dreams. 

"Why me?" 

"It was you who rubbed my lamp, right?" Lucas questions, his hand hovers in the air and there is a clattering sound as the chest bursts open and the lamp flies through the air only to land perfectly in his open palm. 

"The one who finds the lamp and rubs it will be my master. And once I have granted you three wishes, then I will be hiddened once again until my next master discovers me."

"And you repeat the process?"

Lucas nods forlornly as he glares at the golden lamp. 

"For how long?" 

Eliott isn't expecting those eyes to snap towards him. Or to see the wave of a hand and the lamp disappearing just like that. 

He doesn't think he'll really ever get used to seeing "magic" happen. 

"You're an odd one. Handsome, but odd. Most would simple make a wish instead of prying like such."

Eliott shrugs under the scrutiny, his smile light because he's heard that one before. 

"I'm curious, that's all." 

"Hm. Indeed. Right, well. Would you like me to grant you a wish?" 

"Anything? And I get three?" 

"Yes, that's right. _Anything_ and you get three." 

Eliott ponders over it for a moment. Because really he leads a good life. Great even, if he really thinks about it and he's not left wanting for much. Movement draws his attention back to Lucas and he finds himself staring as the brunette conjures plump cushions and languidly drapes himself all over them. 

Lucas shrugs at his questioning gaze. 

"Feels like you'll be a while, might as well get comfortable." Eliott nods because he understands the sentiment. 

Yes, Eliott can make a decision on a whim, can even do it without thinking too hard but sometimes, for some of the most simplistic things, Eliott can take forever and a half to decide. 

"So if I asked you for a blue razz slushie, I'd get one?" 

Lucas, who was lying on his stomach, giving Eliott the perfect view of his back, turned so that he rested on his side, hand propping up his head. 

"What in the world is a blue razz slushie?"

Eliott takes pause. 

“You don’t know what a blue razz slushie is?” Eliott asks, eyeing the genie who has one hand thrown around his waist blue eyes looking intently at pristine nails. One shoulder moves in a half shrug as if to portray his lack of interest in this “blue razz slush” that Eliott mentions. “Lucas the all powerful genie, who can bring me power, fame, and fortune— has no clue what a blue razz slush is?”

“Listen, I never claimed _I_ would know everything. It’s my magic that is all knowing and powerful. Believe me, if you wished for a ‘blue razz slushie’,” Lucas rolls his eyes, “You’ll get your wish. Exactly as you want it.” 

Eliott smirks and he takes a step forward. That momentary fear he felt when Lucas first appeared is nearly nonexistent and whatever remnants there are has morphed into some kind of excitement, into a sort of adrenaline as he regards the beauty in front of him. 

“I don’t know,” he hums nonchalantly, “I have my doubts. I mean you just said you don’t even know what that is, no way it’d come out exactly as I want.” Eliott watches as Lucas turns sharpened eyes on him, the shadows on his face growing as he frowns. His cushions disappear and he stands with on hand on his hip.

Lucas holds out the othet hand in the air, arm glittering some kind of beautiful as those fingers bend and clutch at nothing at first. But then that same feeling from earlier is back— like the heat in the air is sucked away— and Eliott finds his breath forming as he breathes in and out while he watches the air warp and swirl right in front of him. Not moments later there is an extra large blue razz slushie clutched in Lucas’ hands (which Eliott just realized are a lot smaller than his, what with the slushie putting things in perspective)

“One blue razz slus— why does this look like you will drop dead if you ingest this?” Lucas eyes the drink with disgust and Eliott lets out a full bodied laugh. He reaches for the drink thanks already on his tongue. 

“You’re seriously missing out if you haven’t tried this yet.” Yes, it was like pumping straight sugar into your veins but. He takes a long gulp and closes his mouth to the flavor. It goes straight to his head. 

"Well if you want to poison yourself that is none of my business. That is your first wish."

"Hold on. I never wished it. You simply got me a blue razz without me asking." 

"What? Of course you wis—" and as of realization struck him that he was played, the shadows converged and covered his face showing an in ornate amount of anger that had Eliott snorting into his slushie. He takes a sip before the cup disappears from his grip.

When he looks up he sees Lucas holding the slushie in those too small hands a scowl on his face. It only serves to make him look cuter. 

"If you did not wish it, then it is not to be yours." Eliott mourns for his slushie for two seconds before he shrugs. 

"I mean you won't get an argument from me. But you really shouldn't waste it." Eliott moves away from Lucas who simply glares at him. 

"That is fine. If you want to watch me drink and savor this while you can not, then I will." 

With an indignant glare Lucas brings the straw to his lips, eyes clenched as he sucks down the slushie. It takes a moment for the flavor to sit fully on his tongue but Eliott realizes the exact moment it happens. 

Blue eyes fly open and stare down at the electric blue sugary mess. "This is—" he pauses to take another sip. 

Eliott smiles at the sight. He loves watching as Lucas discovers the wonders of gas station slushies. His lips a pale lavender from the cold.

"An absolute delight. Why have I not tried this before?" He throws the question at Eliott but Eliott doesn't think he expects an answer. He moves to clear a couple more boxes before the night is over. 

Eliott still has three wishes. 

"You should see what it does to your tongue." He calls out behind him. The room filled with slurping sounds before Lucas pauses. 

"Oh my god! It's blue. My tongue is blue!"

Eliott is in no rush to figure out what those wished will be. He has time. Lucas can wait with him while he decides.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Thoughts? Come scream at me on tumblr


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